January 22, 2013
I’ve been reading 1 Peter 5:7 a lot lately, in various translations.
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
Throw all your anxiety onto him, because he cares about you.
God cares for you, so turn all your worries over to him.
Leave all your worries with him, because he cares for you.
Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.
Cast all your anxieties on him, for he cares about you.
I’ve been having some sort of PTSD effects from the dog situation. I’ve never been scared of dogs in my life and I’m finding myself skittish around dogs when they interact. My neighbor who was involved mentioned that her dogs are having a lot of trouble with other dogs since the incident, and I feel terrible – but what else could I have done? I put my dog down, can’t do more than that. Also I miss her and feel guilty. Not as guilty as I thought I’d feel, which is a blessing, but guilty.
I’m worried about money, and finding a new dog who is right for me (which is seeming like an impossible task now), and being single forever, and about a million other things. And I’m trying to remember in all this that God cares for me. That’s pretty big. The creator of the world cares for me. I don’t know why I believe that sometimes; it seems ridiculous, but I do believe it.
March 29, 2012
My life feels like it’s going by so quickly lately (and almost everyone I know feels that way – can’t we make some sort of deal to slow it down??)
I just got more work which, being self-employed, is fantastic, but leaves me with little thinking time. Truthfully, I can usually use less thinking in my life, but it also leaves me with less prayer/talking to God time. I’ve been thinking of doing the try to read the Bible in a year thing or the try to read a book in the Bible I’ve been wanting to read thing, but what seems to be working most for me is just to pick a little bit of it that is what I need to hear and have it roll around in my head for a while. It can be dangerous to take things out of context, I know, so I am making sure I have read the context and that it is consistent with what I know about God. (although so many things are so hard to know about God).
Anyway, after all that rambling, I’m thinking about Jeremiah today. I’ve loved Jeremiah 29:11 for a long time: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I have had so many times when I’ve needed to know that God has these plans for me, just like he had them for the exiles. But I also was struck by the part right after that verse: “2 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
It’s very intimate. It makes me feel like God really wants to get to know me. I mean, I know he does know me, but like he really wants me to be a participant in that. It’s exciting and honoring. Like if you have a friend of a friend you’ve admired who makes a point of getting to know you. Only better because I already know somewhere inside of me how much God loves me. And wants me to seek him. Not sure about how that works though. Maybe I’ll have more thoughts about it tomorrow.
February 2, 2010
This is my tattoo:
I got it almost two years ago, in March 2008, when I was really really depressed. I had just gone through a breakup and felt worthless and hopeless. That is a bad combination, but sadly, one that is very common.
My tattoo says “shekinah” in Hebrew. The word means the presence or dwelling place of God. Sometimes translated as the manifestation of God, the glory of the Lord, or the Holy Spirit, it was my reminder that I wasn’t allowed to think that God wasn’t present with me. I might feel that way – and I did. But I made the commitment to believe even when it felt like I was just deluding myself.
This blog has the blogger’s reasons for getting a tattoo which are much the same as mine. I really like that he chose the word “rescued.” I have a friend who has “deconverted” and cites two reasons: one, that there is no scientific proof for the existence of God; and two, that God doesn’t rescue people. That last part is what really touches me. I think it would feel so incredibly hopeless to feel like God doesn’t or can’t rescue people. Somehow – and I don’t know how – even at my worst, I knew that he did. I didn’t know why he wasn’t rescuing me at that moment, but at my core, I still knew that God was the Redeemer who still redeemed and rescued his people. I can’t even explain how I am so sure, but I know that more clearly than I know just about anything else. It’s beautiful to me in the way that birth is beautiful.
I’d love to get another tattoo – either that uses the verse from Job about I know that my Redeemer lives, or something about being redeemed and rescued. I can’t think of another spot I want it though, that’s my main obstacle. Oh, and it hurts.
June 26, 2009
I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth.